I Wish Him Grass
by LittleLouisaRose
Summary: Bella's world has white-washed walls, organized but empty. When she's sent to forks by her unequipped mother she may just meet the one person- or vampire- who can save her. Soon her world is full of complications and of the emotions she's afraid of.
1. Chapter 1

_On a squeaking cart, they push the usual stuff,_

_A mattress, bed ends, cups, carpets, chairs,_

_Four paperback westerns. Two whistling youths_

_In surplus U S Army battle-jackets_

_Remove their sister's goods. Her husband_

_Follows…_

_And pushing, of all things, a lawnmower._

_There is no grass in Terry Street. The worms_

_Come up cracks in concrete yards in moonlight._

_That man, I wish him well. I wish him grass._

By Douglas Dunn.

The first thing, I guess, you should know about me, is that my world is not quite the same as yours. The second is that my name is Bella. And that is all I have to say about myself, whoever that is.

I lugged my heavy suitcase up the stairs, to my old room, to an old part of my past. Thump, thump, thump- it banged on each step and against my heels. On the landing the worn carpet creeks under my foot as my suitcase whines, protesting as its wheels catch on tufts of unloved beige fur. The door to my room is white washed, so much that it hurts my eyes. Gingerly I push it open, as if there may be someone else lying on my bed. But no, it's just me, my suitcase and a watery sunlight filtering though the clouds.

I let out a small sigh of relief, and it settles like dust into the room. I remember everything, the soft blue carpet, the almost threadbare comforter on my bed, the large open window that still seemed to be the room's focal point. Far away I can hear the ghost of a little girl laughing.

Then like a machine, I unpack. Efficient and measured, unfolding uniform white underwear, various slacks and shirts. I hid everything away in a whitewashed wardrobe, until my room was bare again. Breathing heavily from the flurry of movement I was at a loss as to what to do next. I glanced round the room, and there was nothing, nothing that inspired me, nothing that would make me feel better.

Before I get too caught up in my feelings, I force myself into action. I spread myself out on the empty floor, until my tense spine clicks into place. And then again I am a flurry of movement, I fold my legs, touch my toes. And again. And again. A thousand sit ups until all I can hear is my heart pounding in my ears. Proof that I am still alive, still here.

A while later, I hear Charlie call my name "Isabella". But that is not my name. I creep out of my room stepping only on my toes, to stop the floor creaking. He'd made us dinner, dry pasta and a limp salad.

"So, first day of school tomorrow" he says trying to make conversation. The pasta catches in my throat. I nod. "You can take the truck if you want." I nod again even Billy Black's old hand-me-down gas guzzler beats a ride in Charlie's cruiser. "You got everything ready?" He asked sensing the waning chance of a father-daughter discussion. "Yeah sure" my words are short and to the point, the corners of Charlie's mouth seemed to dip a little, and I feel bad.

"You know, Ch- dad, you should let me cook from now on" the relief on his face from such a small offer is bemusing, even to me. Clearly he doesn't cook. Then comes his obliged refusal. "You know Bells really you don't have to, I get by just fine." Then I can't help but crack a grim smile, which feels stretched and alien on my face. "Don't worry" I promise "I enjoy it, really". And then after a quick glance around his kitchen I add "Do you have some money or something, I could stock up on supplies after school."

"Oh, yeah sure, in the cupboard over the sink, there's money I save each week for groceries." And then he gets distracted by a baseball game on TV. After dinner I get bored quickly, I was up to date if not already ahead of any revision or projects that would be required at Forks high, courtesy of no social life in phoenix. I'm not the most co-ordinated of people but I enjoy physical exercise, it stops my mind from wondering, so I decided to explore the neighbour hood.

I pull on my sweats and sports bra, scraping my longish brown hair back into a pony. Charlie was still absorbed by the TV, I yelled to him as I left. "I'm going for a run". He glanced over at me briefly, assessing my mental health, "Sure, be back by ten" Inside I smile, three hours to play with.

My feet pound the street, sinking softly into the well worn but springy soles of my sneakers. All the houses looks similar, red or cream walls, flower boxes and pastel colour blinds, blocking the front rooms from prying eyes, like mine.

I run until the houses and bungalows become so far apart it takes my ten minutes to reach the next. The gaps are filled by overwhelming pine forests, that fill the air with a sickly sweet pine fresh smell, and flickering orange streetlamps that bounce gold onto the slick black puddles, of Fork's famous rain.

When I at last reach the next house, I brief a heavy sigh of relief, at last I had not crossed to far into the outskirts of town. Unlike the other houses though this one felt different. I'd compare it to an abandoned castle from a low rent horror movie, except the cream walls and large open glass windows gave it an open, almost inviting feel. The door is normal, the windows are normal giving a soft cozy orange glow, even the noises are normal, the faint sounds of CNN floating on the air. But the house seems taller, with no pines to shadow it. And the air smells empty.

The flash of headlights from the road ahead of me draw me from my trance. I am halfway home before I realise there was no grass around the house, in fact, life at all.

When I arrive home, pushing the time constraint, Charlie is asleep in his chair. I creep over to him, and playing the role of a loving daughter, pull a felt blanket around him. He muttered in his sleep, and his mouth stretched into a broad grin. He looked so young in his sleep, like the man my mother married, all the lines on his face smoothed and all the thoughts on his mind at rest.

Then I get ready for bed. Shower. Brush my teeth. Pack my bag for school the next day, pens, pencils and notepads follow one after the other into an oversized satchel. And then I climb into bed my limbs weary from the run. I stare up at the blank ceiling, and can't help but feel a sense of overwhelming emptiness in my life, like a black hole threatening to swallow me. I cannot sleep to scared even to move. But I cannot say what of.


	2. Chapter 2

_I met a traveller from an antique land_

_Who said: Two vast trunkless legs of stone_

_Stand in the desert... Near them on the sand,_

_Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown_

_And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command_

_Tell that its sculptor well those passions read_

_Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,_

_The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed._

_And on the pedestal these words appear:_

_"I am Ozimandias, King of Kings._

_Look on my works ye Mighty, and despair."_

_Nothing besides remains. Round the decay_

_Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,_

_The lone and level sands stretch far away._

By Percy Bysshe Shelley.

The next morning I awoke with a start, my legs were tangled in my sheets and I could hear Charlie pulling out of the drive, probably for fishing or and early morning shift. I flung myself onto the floor with a thump. It sounds harsh I know, but it's the only way I can get myself out of bed each morning.

I got ready for school without really thinking, skipping breakfast in favour of coffee- black, no sugar, and strong. But as I reached into the cupboard over the sink to collect the grocery money, I realised the inside of the cupboards were still painted sunshine yellow. Frantically I flew though the kitchen, opening each cupboard, yellow, yellow, yellow- they were all still painted on the inside.

I thought he'd forgotten. Every time I'd come to visit before I thought the newly painted lilac cupboards were a sign he no longer wanted anything to do with me or my mother. But there the brash yellow paint still sat, having had no attempt on it to cover it over, like a ray of sun though the storm.

Annoyed at myself for reacting so violently, I picked up the plentiful money- Charlie clearly never spent much on fresh food, and headed out to the truck. It was exactly how I'd remembered it, a faded shade of burnt orange, that had dark patches in every nook and cranny-like rust or dried blood. And the engine roared to life as I turned the key. I sat there for a while, I hated school. Well not so much school as the students. There were endless possibilities as to what could go wrong, plenty of chances to make a fool of myself.

But it was inevitable; I inhaled deeply, the scent of stale tobacco and mint leaves, and pulled smoothly out of the drive.

The gravel crunched under my tyres as I pulled into the school, I stopped in front of reception collecting a map and slip of paper for my teachers to sign from an old but friendly lady called Mrs Cope. When I drove my car round the building into the car park I mentally cringed, my truck clearly stood out. Not that it would really matter at the end of the day, cars were the least of my worries right then.

The bell rang shrill and clear over the grounds, and although the day was crisp and I still shivered in my cardigan, I thought I saw a ray of watery sunshine break though the clouds.

I was about to step into block one of the five for registration, when I was accosted by an enthusiastic boy. He had dirty blonde hair, short and spiked up, that together with his blue shiny eyes and round cheeks made him look like a grossly overgrown five year old. "Hi I'm Mike." He said, thrusting his hand towards me. Figures I thought to myself, he did remind me of a boy I was friends with back in phoenix called Mike- when we were eight or so that is.

I stared at his hand, trying to keep the grimace off my face as I noticed a mysterious brown stain and his grubby fingernails. He waved his hand a little and gave a wary grin. "Oh… right sorry" I re-arranged my bag awkwardly to shake his hand. "I'm…"

"Isabella Swan, I know". I hate people who interrupt me don't you?

I made my excuses and hurried inside before I could be annoyed by any more of the two hundred or so students at Forks high. All hope I had of remaining invisible vanished when my form tutor asked me to introduce myself to the class. I guess anonymity isn't as easy in Forks as it was in phoenix.

I cleared my throat nervously, "Well you probably all know I'm Isabella Swan, right, Charlie's Daughter, but I prefer Bella" that was where my inspiration ran out. I stared blankly at the class, some looked bored, some looked bemused, and I'm pretty sure there was one guy at the back of the class picking his nose. The teacher took pity on my gaping fish impression and prompted. "Why don't you tell us something about yourself, Bella, where did you move here form?"

"Oh um right" I stumbled, feeling the blood creep to my cheeks. "Well I moved here from Phoenix, after… well that doesn't really matter, ummm, I like to read and run and… stuff. "Thank you Bella, please take a seat, I doesn't look like Edward's in today but go ahead and take that seat next to him, I'm sure you two will get along just fine tomorrow."

I pulled out the chair hoping I could just meld myself into the desk. My only comfort was a warm fuzzy feeling on the back of my neck, courtesy of more sun peeking though the clouds.

The rest of the day was sort of a blur, I met lots more people, and promptly forgot their names. I also fell over in the dinner hall much to my chagrin, luckily not landing in, or spilling any food. The one person I met who I sort of liked was a girl called Angela; she seemed sweet, sort of shy and didn't press me for answers. Better than that, she seemed comfortable to sit in silence if the conversation wasn't worth having and offered to be my partner for English class and a project we were asked to start.

PE was my last lesson of the day, thank heavens for the small mercies in life. I sat on the bleachers and watched the world turn, students ran and jumped and lived. And I just sat there watching, like always.

After dropping off the slip of paper to Mrs Cope, who seemed weather worn at the end of the day, her grey hair escaping her bun and her glasses slipping from the end of her nose. None of her enthusiasm had waned though, she questioned me endlessly. How was biology? How did I like my English teacher? And it went on, and on, and on.

I started to head home before I remembered I had to buy groceries, Charlie had virtually nothing but fish in his fridge and freezer. And I managed to find an old can of baked beans in a cupboard.

I entered the nearest Wal-Mart warily; the bright, brash lights hurt my eyes. And everything was neon or flashing, crying out for attention. I grabbed a shopping cart and started ticking things off my mental shopping list. Flour and butter for pastry, bread for sandwiches, tinned tomatoes and pulses for bolognaise, it was quite a nice feeling to get lost in something so practical and real. I couldn't feel myself drifting away from reality like I sometimes could, as I held on tightly to a pack of rice, feeling its weight in my palm.

Then I came to the fresh fruit and vegetables, the lovely rich colours and gentle natural sheen of the fresh produce had me make a mental note to scold Charlie for not using enough fresh goods. I started collected everything I needed, carrots and potatoes for stew with dumplings, asparagus to go with salmon. I was just collecting some red peppers, when I reached to the back standing on my tiptoes to reach the fruits un-bruised by hurried hands.

There was a boy, no a man standing opposite me. When he saw my face peaking over the barrier of peppers though, his features froze and became hard. I was like all I could see were his eyes, a deep rich gold, unlike any I'd seen before. But they were old eyes, far too old for a boy who couldn't be much older than me. And they looked despairing, and full of some internal battle.

His lips curled into a snarl of cold command, and smooth forehead creased into a frown. Far away peppers tumbled to the ground, a forgotten cart squeaked on the tile floor. And then his face softened the boy turned to pass his mother the carrots he had been holding. They seemed strangely out of place in his perfectly sculpted hands. He turned and walked away.

Giving me just one last glance at those haunted eyes that had seen worlds and things and people I had yet to dream about. Giving me just one last look at the traveller and his chiselled face.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sit_

_Be still_

_Be strong_

_Be silent_

_It's all in the mind_

_All in the head_

By Me

I watched the man's receding footsteps, more eagerly than I would care to admit, and then hastily shook him and his dangerous eyes from my mind. Instead of obsessing over his last look back or way he froze when I looked at him, I obsessed over whether to buy brown pasta or white and if Charlie would risk a chorizo risotto one night. The domestics are easy to place. People, I find them a lot harder to understand.

At home I chopped, diced and blended until I was happy with the pie filling and pastry I was making. The pie festivities gave me the sudden urge to re-inact the scene from Disney's Snow-white – and the song whistle while you work. So I pranced around on the shiny linoleum tiles, rolling a pie crust and singing Disney, sad isn't it?

My mood quickly died when I heard my dad's unmistakable laughter floating though from the living room. "Bells, I didn't know you still like Disney" he managed to get out between barks of laughter. My gaze hardened as his softened. "Yeah well there's lots you don't know about me Charlie, isn't there?" My words hung in the air between us, as if he could not quite accept them and I could not quite take them back.

Not wanting to ruin family relations I quickly shook my head. "Sorry, I made chicken pie for dinner, hence Snow-white". And my outburst was quickly forgotten.

A while later my pie sat golden and steaming on the table, complete with Snow-white bird footprint decoration, Charlie couldn't believe his eyes. I had to smile despite myself. Dinner seemed to be going well if quite, when he suddenly broke the silence. "Bells? Why are there so many red peppers in this?" Once again I had reason to be ashamed of myself, and the blush that crept into my cheeks.

After an hour of swimming or wading though piles of revision, assignments and homework, my feet started itching with longing for my running shoes. Being pretty sure Charlie would object to running at such a late hour, I changed quickly and pulled open the window. Looking out I was not so sure my idea had been a good one. But I find once the reckless part of my mind has control it is often too late for the sane part of me- however small that is- to wrestle the reins of control and of desire back.

The tree, dark and strong beckoned me. I perched on my windowsill like a cat about to pounce and leaped. And then I was flying though the air or falling but that hardly seemed to matter.

My fingertips just managed to find grip on a branch, and I swung there for a while, suspended like a highway man hanging from his noose. Feeling gravity click my bones into place and stretch my arms. Feeling the rough damp bark tickle my skin, and the cold night air brush the small of my back as if it were sharing its darkest secrets with me.

And then I dropped.

Landing with a bounce on the springy grass and mud.

And then I was running or flying or falling. It hardly seemed to matter which.

Thump thump thump, went my heart and thump thump thump went my toes on the liquorice tarmac road. Roads blurred into one and houses bled past as I pushed my self further and faster. I ran to forget the stares and school and at home. To forget the feeling of unease that stayed with me permanently, and that ate me up from the inside at night and when I was alone. I ran to forget that mysterious boy.

I ran to forget.

I cannot say how long I ran for, time hardly matter when you feel that free, it's as if you really do have all the time in the world.

Except without realising it I became exhausted, like a switch had been thrown inside me. I could've walked back, I know, but I just couldn't see the point, no one would miss me, no-one would care. I could've stopped at one of the houses and asked for help, but all that mattered to me was rest and peace. So I did the only thing that seemed sensible to me. I stepped to the side of the road and let the warm damp earth embrace me, and carry my heavy limbs.

My eyes seemed to almost glaze over as I turned my head and turned to look at the black, well worn road. My vision seemed to ripple and distort. The road belched and twisted until it was a great wave of black above me, blocking out the stars. And it seemed to heave with some unnatural life. The yellow warning lines on the side of the road became glaring eyes and a cruel mouth that laughed at my paralysing fear. It felt like even the muddy ground I lay on was breathing underneath me.

I froze. Certain the road was possessed. And that I would die there, after being attacked by all the once inanimate things around me.

Eventually I must have drifted off to sleep. Because I awoke blearily to a rising sun, a cool hand and an angel's voice.

"Are you okay?" the angel asked. But why would an angel talk to me, it was all a vile trick me mind was playing on me. "Are you hurt?" The angel sounded afraid.

But I wasn't afraid anymore.

* * *

_Sorry to ruin the effect, and i really am sorry I hate A/N's, but i forgot to do a disclaimer, this wil be the only one in the whole thing, so i'll be clear. I- do- not- own- Twilight- or -the- charecters! I also think this chapter was a little off or confusing, something doesn't seem right to me, so I may rewrite it at some point._


	4. Chapter 4

_The person who risks nothing  
Does nothing  
Has nothing  
Is nothing _

_Self-realisation is harder than  
Self Sacrifice_  
Author Unknown

I stretched my arms lazily and yawned. "Yeah, fine just sleeping" I said my voice still quiet and croaky from nightmares. Then I looked up, it was the mysterious man I had met over the vegetable display the evening before. His eyes were exactly how I remembered them, although now filled with a mix of awe and confusion. And away from the harsh lights of the supermarket, his hair looked a wonderful shade of auburn although, auburn is not really a good enough adjective to describe it, it was browner with bronze and coppery tones. wholly brilliant.

"Sleeping? On the mud?" his velvety voice was incredulous. "Yup, sorry do have the time?" I replied paranoia creeping in, he looked a little surprised, but glanced at his watch. "Quarter to six."

"Sorry, got to go get ready for school." I said running off towards home before I could think to ask I'm why he'd been out before six.

I crept though the emerald front door, silently trying to make deals with God, even the devil if it meant Charlie didn't see me coming in. I held my breath as I twisted the door knob, and let out a sigh of relief, he wasn't sitting up on the sofa waiting for me as I had expected.

I walked though to the kitchen, and threw the switch on the kettle, and made a grab for a mug. Crash it fell to the floor, a hand grabbed my arm.

"Bella, what were you doing outside." Charlie sounded betrayed. "Sorry dad, jeez, you scared me, I was just checking the garden I thought I heard someone out there." His small grin re-lit his face, "ok then, sorry I thought you were sneaking in." I looked up at his face, into his pale grey eyes. "Sneaking's not really my thing dad."

Maybe I really had succeeded in selling what was left of my soul, the only question remaining, was it to the Devil or an Angel?

I rushed my morning routine. A boiling shower, a scorching coffee, books flung in a bag. And then decided to risk the walk to school, it should be simple, just following the main road. I dug my I-pod out of my travel bag, made sure it had charge and left.

The walk seemed to stretch out for hours, music tickling my ears, but there was this itching in my feet I couldn't quite shake out, like something exciting was going to happen. Even the hairs on the back of my neck tingled with anticipation. The grey clouds sheltered me, and for the first time in a long while I felt a glimmer of safety, or refuge.

I arrived at form room a little early, the clock ticked painstakingly, tick, tock, tick, tock. The seat next to me was still empty. Then as soon as the bell started it's, loud, shrill ring, the man I kept bumping into slid though the door, and into the seat next to me.

A small part of me felt like crying, now he would see me for who I was, the real me.

My muscles tensed in voluntarily, and any words I may have considered stuck to my tongue. The guy, Edward, as the teacher called him, seemed to be similarly paralysed, his pale hands griping the seat as if it would jump away from him the second I let go. Form period dragged on, tick, tock, tick, and tock.

I nearly jumped for joy when the bell rang for the second time, and I rushed off to English. It seemed though that Edwards had had an identical notion meeting me at the door. His hand brushed mine, and then my body was aflame.

Shaking my head I looked after him but he had already disappeared into the crowd.

The morning dragged.

And lunch exploded.

I stepped into line, queuing for my lunch, a blue plastic tray clutched under one arm. "Diet coke please, and an apple." I'd never been big on nutrition. Then came the challenge, deciding where to sit. I couldn't see Angela, maybe she'd been held back in class.

I stood next to an empty table deliberating, when who else? Edward Cullen slid into the seat. I stood for a little while, seething. I couldn't sit next to him, or could I? There was definitely something going on, fate or a connection drawing me to him, throwing us together at every opportunity.

Then before I could make my move, his adopted family pulled up the seats next to him, leaving me once again locked out.

I resigned myself to sit alone, on the only empty table, next to the bins. Angela failed to show. It felt like with every bite my stomach filled a little more, but my heart was being drained by each tick of the clock. I could hear musical laughter floating over from Edward's table, drifting on a breeze.

After finishing my food, I walked out to the parking lot, hoping for an empty bench I could do some homework on. I stared at my feet as I walked, but a fierce wind whipped around my hair, wrapping tendrils of deep brown around my eyes, like a blindfold. I lifted my head to wipe my hair from my vision, and as it cleared, the wind died down.

Walking in front of me, with his oh-so casual graceful lope was Edward, a man I barely knew. But his family intrigued me, they seemed to close to each other, so triumphant.

Hesitantly I increased my speed until I was right behind him, my shaking hand closed the gap between us and my pale fingers wrapped around his arm. "Does it hurt" I asked, hoping panic didn't bleed into my words.

He turned. Looking down at me though his long dark lashes, his emerald eyes smouldered as I stared into them. There was a small smile on his perfect lips as he asked "does what?" Maybe he expected a half baked chat up line or something.

"Being happy?" I finished my question, and it broke my heart.


	5. Chapter 5

_Beautiful blank pages  
kiss our  
imaginations …_

Our black letters cross  
on tightrope lines,  
curving  
without wavering  
across deep, invisible currents.

… promises of our  
reflections.  
Our gentlest strokes  
of darkness upon light.

By Judith Pordon

He looked at me, and I found I couldn't meet his gaze, suddenly I felt uncomfortable in my own skin, like I'd revealed a piece of myself and now he was examining it with scientific precision. I let my hand drop and turned to leave, or escape, but his hand reached for mine.

His ice cold while fingers, paler than even mine, curled around my wrist. I struggled against his grip. Although, the truth was he sent shivers down my spine. "Wait" he looked at my face again searching. "I'm thinking". Thinking of what, I wanted to ask a way to humiliate me or scare me?

His hand dropped, and instantly I felt like something was missing. His deep eyes searched my face and my eyes darted around them, avoiding. "Yes, it does. More than you think."

And then he walked away.

It was not the answer I had expected. Not at all. But then again, not much I expect ever turns out. Still, it seemed strange, so out of place for what I could tell was an ordinary boy besides his looks, with family that loved him and were also his friends. Something was not right with him.

Then before I could sit down again the bell rang for afternoon lessons. I had biology first, then art and PE. I headed to my first lesson with trepidation, there was a spare seat next to me, and who else but Edward would fill it? But when I arrived his attention drawing presence was not there. I breathed, releasing the trapped air from my lungs I didn't even know I had trapped.

Mr Banner turned out the lights, the room feel silent. Then there was a creak and scratch, followed by wooden footsteps, leftrightleftright…

I squeezed my eyes tight shut, but I could feel the darkness, and my own fear nibble away at my skin. It was stupid at my age I know to be scared of irrational things, a road, a dark classroom. But my life had given me more than enough to fear.

As I felt someone sit down next to me, I knew straight away who it was, I would have given anything to be someone else at that moment. I was stuck, my arms wrapped round my own body for protection and eyes so tightly shut I was seeing stars in my eyelids.

How could I defend my question at lunch? How could I act normal?

The film had started by the time I'd opened my eyes again, although it was still pitch black. My fear started to bleed away, little by little. And I wondered not for the first time if my boldness and bravery was a side effect of the invisible sparks flying between me and Edward, bouncing of every patch of bare skin we had.

If I concentrated had enough I could almost see them, bolts of lightening jumping though the short distance between our chairs, linking us together. Edward had his hands gripping the underside of his chair again, and his eyes closed, he looked peaceful. But I could see his eyeballs roll around and flutter in their sockets as though he was dreaming, and the hollows of his cheeks became more pronounced as if he were struggling to draw in air. Silent though his struggle was.

And I wanted to know. What had he got to be afraid of?

I was still examining his face when the lights suddenly burst into life. His eyes flickered open and caught my gaze. For once I didn't blush, I stared steadily back at him, but inside I felt so ashamed.

The bell rang and I headed to art, knowing full well the spring I my step is because yesterday in our induction lesson there had been know spare seats in our class and Edward had not been in one of them. I pushed open the door and found a thousand eyes staring back at me. Green, blue and grey, half finished, painted or sketched, sleepy, happy, crying. All pasted to the front wall of the room.

I took my seat next to a girl I didn't know, but she gave me a small wry smile and a nod. "Hello everyone, today, as it's your first real class I'd like to see what standard you're all working at. So I have a bit of a challenge for you. I'd like each of you to draw an eye, just one and with no other facial features, spend the full hour on it with any medium you chose and I'll come round giving advice." I thought she'd finished when she added one last thing. "Remember your really aim is to get emotion across, which is why it's so hard, in life the eyes are the windows to the soul, so put a bit of your soul on that paper."

I walked to the centre of the room, grabbing a large piece of perfectly white and strangely silky paper, and a pack of pastels. On my desk it stretched out in front of me like a white sea. And then I started to draw. My hands fluttered over the page, as my strokes at first seemed sparse and lonely, as if they were drowning in the sea, and then more joined them becoming an outline. I heard a musical voice, a girls this time, but was so distracted by my work I didn't see Mrs Starr, pull up an extra seat next to me, and explain to the new student our task.

Next came the colour, which else but green? The pastels were sorely lacking though, by the time I was finished almost exhausted with only five minutes left the emerald was flecked with a little of each stripe of the rainbow. Making it look full of life instead of the flat tones used by everyone else.

I could hear Mrs Starr walk around the room studying and advising each student. A little more colour or shading. Or a little less red in the eyelids. Then she came to me, looking over my shoulder for a good minute before she spoke. "You know what? It's not perfect but I couldn't change a thing, Bella." And then she held it up for the class.

"This is Bella's work class, see how we can almost feel this persons fear, the way the eye is open wide in shock, and if you look closely several colours are used to get this overall.. emerald tone. Also note how we can see the reflection of a girl in this corner, small but still there, and she looks just as scared as this eye." I hadn't even noticed that I'd drawn myself into the picture.

Then she gave it back to me, but now it looked unfamiliar, someone else's imagination instead of mine. Mrs Starr continued round the class.

"Alice amazing, try using a little more shading around the iris though" Mr Starr said.

_Thank you to all those who reviewed, it really does make my day._


	6. Chapter 6

The rain hitting the window  
As she stares out onto the open ground  
Replaying her song sweet days  
While her mommy drives away.

Running through her memory  
To tell her mommy she loved her  
But knowing something was wrong  
While they rode that rollercoaster.  
She didnt see it coming

To heavens shining golden gates.  
Reaching out to her  
Screaming her name  
While tears hit her eyes  
Like the rain hits the window pane.

_Author Unknown_

The girl next to me, Alice, turned to me with a piecing gaze so intese I thought it would rip into my flesh. Her deep brown eyes narrowed, her dainty nostrils flaired. "You must be Bella" her voice drifted to my ears though a fog. I let my paper fall to the desk, silently floating down like a feather falling from the sky.

"Yes, you're… Alice, right?" I said hesitantly. Her contorted features smoothed into a relaxed and carefree smile. "Hey, have you seen the new fair, it came to town yesterday, I was thinking of going tonight, if you wanted to that is."

I looked at her blankly for a second, a small smile tugged the edges of her lips up just before I opened my mouth to speak. "I…" but she cut my excuse off. "Good then I'll see you tonight, how about eight 'o' clock, out side the Newton's shop, I think the fair's on the field right behind."

This time I didn't mind my train of thought or words being interuppted. Her words cut sleek and smooth into mine not hurried and impatient like Mike's. And the look in her eyes haunted me, like she knew something she shouldn't, like she knew the reason I was refusing her offer.

"Sure" I replied, "great" she exclaimed with a graceful effiecency that amazed me, she pulled her bag over her shoulder and stood, right as the bell rang. And the rest is history.

Well almost.

The rest of the day felt hollow, like my world was wrapped in bubble wrap, I counted my heart's beats, my footsteps slapping the ground with a thwack. Anything to stop me worring about the fairground.

Hours later I stood to the side of the newtons red-bricked store, leaning my back against the wall, hiding in the shadows as I waited to be stood up. I could hear sound floating over from the field, stall owners shouting their wares, gawdy mucic ringing in my ears.

Lights flashed and suddenly everythig changed. My skin, my eyes, even my ears became hyper sensitive, the wall behind me clawed at the bare skin on my neck, the ground pressed against my feet. The music defeaned me and I clamped my eyes tight shut as flashing bulbs burnt my retenias. Then just as suddenly as it had come, it passed. The only evendience fo the episode, my ragged breath, coming in fits and bursts from my aching chest.

Three figures approached, silent as night, almost gliding across the tarmac towards me, I crossed my arms protectivly over my chest, and tilted my head upwards, defiant.

But it was only the Cullens.

Without a word Alice's cold hand reached for mine, and I let myself be led into the unknown. Children ran, screaming and laughing in delight. Canyfloss scattered the ground like tumble weed, and the cheap smell of hot dogs and fried onions filled my nostils. The dark night envoloped us, and in contrast to the white lights, the sky remained stoicly empty.

Jasper and Edward trailed behind as alice led us to a small tent right to the back of the fair. A disjointd sign hung above the entance, faded and worn- The Hall Of Mirrors. I heard a laugh float though the tents striped fabic, I turned to look at Alice. And dropped her hand, I knew the fair had been a mistake, "No" her excitement turned to confusion, "not here."

And then I heard a velvety voice tickle my ear lobe, "Why? What are you afraid of?" So I stepped warily forward. The hall cosidted of several compartments each full of mirrors. Bella after Bella stared back at me, unflincing as my face mutated, stetched ans shrunk.

I felt my pulse quick as the girl in the mirror started shrieking at me, the wild look in her eyes setting fear into my bones. The world span as I battled to control my reflection, each breath got harder and harder to find as my vidion blurred. Then I felt strong arms around my waist pulling me out.

The cooler air outside snapped me out of it. Jasper looked down at me worried. I barely knew him, I'd never even spoke to him, but yet he'd known. "Are you okay?" his voice fluttered nervously. I nodded in response. "I… felt, I mean saw tht you were struggling." His eyes, a shade lighter than Alice's filled with concern. "Why… It was too hot in there right?" Changing his question quickly to avoidence tactics.

My gaze met his, holding it for a minute, and then the moment ended. Edwards voice ringing out "Alice, you knew that would happen." Full of Ire. And we moved on.

The night passed quickly, we weaved in and out of a few rides, all four of us riding the waltzers and ghosttrain. I could feel the night slipping from my grasp though.

We came to the biggest ride in the field, a dangerous lookng ride that span it's vicims up side down jerking them from side to side. I looked eagerly up at it's grey macanical arms and Edward steped forward to pay. But Alice and Jasper held back.

"You guys scared of heights?" I asked. Alice shook her head and then jerked her head in Edwards direction, he stared at her for a moment. It was as if a silent coversation passed between them.

The machine tightened my restrains against my stomach as we lifeted slowly into the air. Then I was thrown around in my seat, spinning around and round, higher and higher. My screams bled into laughter. My stomcah dropped and lurched as we turned. And I could see the sky dark and empty spining like a washing machine.

All I could feel was my spine being pressed against the back of my seat, and the excitement. I felt like I could release my belts and fly into the night.

I looked at the sky, spinning above me, it wasn't mine but God I wished it was. I wanted to reach out at touch it with my fingertips. I forced my head against the winds turning to face Edward, his emerald eyes met mine silently laughing as his grin widened.

We slowed to a halt and were lowered back down. I stepped warily out of my seat searching desperatley for my land legs. The world wobbled as my stomach gurgled. "I think…" before I could finish I felt bile rise in my throat, and ran to the nearest corner.

I retched and retched, until I was only bringing up acid, then I noticed the cool pressure on my back and the soft fingers holding back my hair. Still kneeling on the floor, I raised my gaze to look at Edward. His face was impassive, he thrust forward a bottle of water and a small white tablet.

"Water, mint, lets go again" he said deadpan. I took the proffered gifts and nodded my head slowly.

And his chapped lips cracked into a smile so wide I thogut it would never end.


End file.
